


Regimental

by toastweasel



Series: The Greaser and the Wolf [1]
Category: Parasol Protectorate - Gail Carriger, The Custard Protocol Series - Gail Carriger
Genre: Bisexual Sidheag is CANON and I am alive, F/F, Gail fucking did. It's AGGIE!, Give Sidheag A Wife, Grouch Squared, Ty is On Their Bullshit once again!, this is post custard protocol. spoilers for Reticence.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21825862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toastweasel/pseuds/toastweasel
Summary: [Spoilers for Reticence.] Aggie is asked to join Kingair.
Series: The Greaser and the Wolf [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572748
Kudos: 10





	Regimental

**Author's Note:**

> Well, Gail Carriger finally went and did it. She went and made a ship so canon and so gay (and so elusively without a novella) that I had to go and break my cardinal rule and make fanfic for them. What's better than one grouchy lesbians? TWO GROUCHY LESBIANS (well, one grouchy bisexual and her canonically grouchy lesbian wife).
> 
> All of this will inevitably go out the window when Sidheag and Aggie eventually get their own novella but until then I shall bask in my bisexual Alpha badass and my mechanically-inclined lesbian sandcastle.

Aggie Phinkerlington was not in Barking two days before she got a visitor.

She’d come here at the insistence of old Foo the moment her son had sent her the aethergram announcing her departure from the _Custard_. Just as well, as she’d had no place to go, unless she’d wanted to move back in with her father. (Which was not bloody likely, thank you very much.)

So here she was, just settling into the caravan behind the cottage Foo and her wife were renting out on the outskirts of Barking, when someone paid her a call. Typical.

“Aggie?” Imogene’s voice followed the soft ratta-ta-ta on the caravan’s doors. “Come down to the main house, do? There’s someone here to see you.”

Aggie grunted. At least she wasn’t in her smalls.

“We’re in the parlor,” were Imogene’s part words before she alighted off the caravan step and shushed away through the garden back towards the house.

Aggie huffed out a breath of air and, after a moment of contemplation, sat up. No point in sitting in the caravan staring at the ceiling, however colorful and well-decorated it might have been. Old Foo hadn’t let her help in the new-new contrivance chamber; said she was working on something _extremely delicate_ , which Aggie knew from years of apprenticeship meant that she was stuck on something and wanted no distractions.

So it was to her great surprise that she found both Imogene _and_ Foo entertaining a dark-skinned man in a worn greatcoat that might have once been purple plaid. He stood up upon her entering; Foo and Imogene did as well.

“Aggie,” Lefoux began, oddly formal, “might I present to you my old friend, and Beta of Kingair pack, Phineas B. Crow? Soap, Aggie Phinkerlington, formerly of the Spotted Custard.”

“And your protégé.” The man smiled; it was a nice smile, full of gleaming teeth with dimples, if you were disposed to that sort of thing. Aggie was not.

“How do you do?” she asked gruffly.

“Well, thank you. It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance—I’ve heard much about you over the years.”

Aggie quirked an eyebrow and looked at Foo, who gave a tiny shrug and sat unceremoniously back on the divan. Imogene joined her, and Aggie and Phineas took nearby armchairs. Imogene poured tea.

“You’re far south,” the greaser finally grunted.

Phineas laughed. “Perhaps so, but herself wanted to act quickly before you were snapped up again.”

Aggie’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

The werewolf settled his cup in its saucer and set it down on the table. “Sophronia told me you were quick to the point, so I’ll be brief. Kingair needs a mechanic, and a head claviger to boot.”

“I don’t want immortality,” Aggie said immediately.

“And you don’t have to,” the Beta assured her. “We need someone who is strong willed and strong armed. Good with machines, and with a good head on her shoulders who can command the clavigers and muscle a werewolf, if need be.” 

Aggie, lacking all manner of decorum, set her cup down and crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s in it for me, then, if I’m not seeking immortality?”

“We’ll pay you well and provide you with room and board. Freedom during the day for your own pursuits, two nights off a week except during full moon.” He paused. “As I’ve said, we also need a mechanic. We also have some mechanical assets around the castle that desperately need improving. They’re years out of date.”

Foo grimaced in a way that indicated that _years_ was being generous.

Aggie’s arms tightened; her muscles bulged. “What do the duties entail?”

“As our mechanic, you’ll be asked to aid in the maintenance of the castle and her assets. Otherwise, preparing for full moon and acting as chaperone on full moon night, mostly. During the day sometimes we need pack business taken care of that we cannot do ourselves.”

“And the pack--regimental?”

Phineas nodded. “Yes, but they just returned from India and with myself installed as their new Beta just months ago the Queen shouldn’t ask us to deploy again for some time.”

“Need to settle.”

He nodded again. “Just so.” A pause. “Sid--that is, Alpha Kingair, was very interested in you for the position. I was instructed to depart post-haste once Vieve had aethergrammed you had landed here in Barking.”

That would explain the sudden arrival. Aggie glared at Foo, who was suddenly very interested in her tea.

“I must consider the offer,” Aggie said after a silence. “It is generous.”

“Of course. Please take as much time as you need; Kingair would be pleased to have you.” Phineas stood and held out his hand to her, American style. After a moment, Aggie stood as well and took it; she could feel oddly familiar calluses on his palms, calluses that not even immortality had smoothed away. “It has been a pleasure to meet you. I would stay but I have business to attend to in London. Please send word back through Vieve when you make a decision.”

Aggie nodded, and Phineas retracted his hand back into his great coat. “By your leave, Greaser Phinkerlington, Vieve. Miss Imogene.”

“Come out back, Soap, you can shift in the chamber,” Foo said, and guided him from the room. As they disappeared down the hallway towards the kitchen and the back room, Aggie turned to Imogene. 

“Old friend?”

“Of Genevieve’s, yes. I only just made his acquaintance myself.”

Aggie grunted. Curious for a werewolf, was Phineas B. Crow. She had thought the same thing when old Foo had introduced her to Alpha Kingair, and then again when Alpha Kingair had led her out on the dance floor at her best friend’s blasted wedding. 

She rubbed her hands together and stared after them, recalling quite suddenly the pleasant smell of moss and mildew that had overwhelmed her when she had danced with the Scottish woman. 

Curious for a werewolf indeed. 

**Author's Note:**

> You might notice this is a series. Oh yes, there will be more as the inspiration strikes.


End file.
